


Happy Birthday, Ianto

by boredsince1894



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Anal Sex, Birthday, Birthday Sex, Blow Jobs, M/M, because it's Ianto and Jack, i'm not used to that, isn't it wonderful?, janto, no one is dead in this!, of course, wow I forgot to tag that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 21:13:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7817419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boredsince1894/pseuds/boredsince1894
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite all the odds, Ianto Jones has somehow managed to get a peaceful, alien-free birthday. Jack is absolutely determined to make it perfect, in whatever way they see fit.</p><p>This is set in 2016. Everyone is alive. This is not an AU. No one is dead. Everyone in Torchwood is alive and happy. No, I'm not in denial. *shakes slightly*</p><p>This is my first time publishing smut, so please be kind to me! It's Ianto's birthday, and I thought he deserved it. Don't blame me. Blame him.</p><p>Finally, the part about Ianto seeing himself in his hero mirrors how Ianto has helped me in the same way. Thank you, Ianto Jones, for everything you've unknowingly done for me. Happy Birthday!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Birthday, Ianto

          The first thing Ianto noticed as he woke up was the slight tinge of red that faded into the black behind his eyelids. It was in the corner of his eye, hinting at him that it was late in the morning. Well. Late for him, anyways. He rested on his side, away from the window and the attention-seeking sunlight that crept into the bedroom. He remembered the first day he had seen his flat, and the relief that had washed over him when he realized the sun would be to the right of his bed, so he could--quite literally--give it the cold shoulder in the morning as he lay on his left side. He also remembered the relief he had felt when he discovered that Jack prefered to lay on his right side, and feel the warm sun on his face whenever Cardiff was blessed with it. The rays would peek out from behind the blinds and wash over him, something he had missed while living down in the Hub for so many years. It was salvation after a sleepless night, and fulfilling after dreams. Whichever it was for Jack, Ianto always thought it made him look beautiful.

          The second thing Ianto noticed as he woke up was how the hand resting between his shoulder blades slowly glided its fingertips across his skin and settled on his arm. It gently pushed and guided him so Ianto was lying on his back. The arm that was connected to the hand crossed his chest before it settled on a patch of the sheets to the right of him. Toes brushed Ianto’s ankle as a foot planted itself onto the bed, and he felt the mattress indent as a knee pushed against it. A thigh wrapped itself around his own, and hip bones slotted in next to his as they let their weight sink onto Ianto. Two calloused yet gentle hands rested on Ianto’s spine as strong arms wrapped around his back, clinging to him. A warm and broad chest melted against his own as two lips pressed themselves to the skin below his ear, and Jack whispered, “Happy birthday, Ianto.” 

          His smile grew as he crossed his arms over Jack’s shoulders. Finally, Ianto opened his eyes and watched as his fingers laced themselves into dark brown hair. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep. Jack pulled back and smiled as he kissed his lips softly. 

          Rewind to late July. The Rift had been quiet that day, with just a few insignificant blips showing up on Tosh’s monitors. Ianto was sitting on the edge of Jack’s desk as they sipped from their mugs, relishing in the comfortable silence. But Ianto could tell by the lack of appreciative humming from Jack as he slowly drank his coffee that something was on his mind. He knew to never rush Jack, so he continued to drink in silence, patiently waiting for him to gather and sort through his thoughts. 

          Finally, after several minutes, the blue and white striped mug was placed onto the desk, and Ianto raised his eyebrows, ready to listen. 

          “Your birthday is next month. How do you want to celebrate?” 

          Ianto’s eyebrows continued to raise in shock. He had expected to hear some plans to tinker with the already excessively souped-up SUV. Perhaps a new take on a Torchwood file from 1961 that they’d been flipping through out of boredom one afternoon. Or maybe even something as simple as what show they wanted to watch on Sunday morning. Something--anything--besides this. 

          “A piñata?” he suggested flatly, still unable to completely process the question. 

          Jack chuckled and shook his head. “Come on, Ianto….I was thinking--” 

          “I noticed.” 

          Jack smiled sheepishly. “I was thinking about what we could do. Gwen, Tosh, and Owen can handle a few rogue Weevils on their own. They shouldn’t need us--” 

          “--unless the world is ending for the third time that week.” 

          “Unless the world is ending for the third time that week,” Jack repeated with a sigh. “Ianto, can you at least entertain the _possibility_ of having just one full day for ourselves?” 

          The young man sighed, a sad smile on his face. Jack was trying, and that was all he could ask of him, at least for the time being. He stood and walked around the desk. Taking the abandoned mug in hand, he leaned over and kissed his boyfriend’s forehead. “Back to work,” he muttered before gliding out of his office. After watching him go, Jack let out a huff, rested his head on his fist, and begrudgingly dragged some half-finished, half-assed paperwork towards himself. 

          Now, it was 8:42 AM on August 19th, and as the sun shined down on Jack's back and Ianto's face, the two lovers were thanking the few lucky stars they had left that Tosh hadn’t called either of their mobiles, shouting about purple rhinoceroses with wings crashing into the Millennium Center--or something of that sort. 

          “Coffee, breakfast, and Bond are first on the list,” Ianto whispered into Jack's hair. 

          Over the past few weeks, they had been planning out his birthday. Jack was doing it seriously, determined to give his boyfriend one perfect day; Ianto was doing it to pacify Jack. It had been a fanciful dream at the time, but maybe, just _maybe_ , the universe would be kind enough to give them that one perfect day they both longed for. 

          “Gimme five more minutes,” whined Jack as he began to trail kisses down his neck. 

          Ianto rolled his eyes. “Despite what you’d like to believe, you can't _actually_ get me off in five minutes. You've tried it before, and failed. Besides, that's not following the plan.” 

          “Not trying to,” he grumbled. “I'm just kissing you, Ianto.” 

          “A likely story.” He let out a reluctantly blissful sigh as Jack nipped at his collarbone. “There's plenty of time for that later. Come on. Coffee, breakfast, and Bond.” Ianto gently coaxed Jack off of him (after he started insistently nibbling on his ear), and pushed himself off the mattress. He waddled towards his dresser, drowsiness hampering his usual smooth and deliberate steps. From the bed, Jack smiled fondly at his morning clumsiness before sliding out from between the sheets. He pulled on a clean pair of pants, turning so he could watch as Ianto did the same, adding pajama bottoms and a T-shirt to his ensemble. Ianto rolled his eyes and smirked as Jack headed down the hallway to their kitchen, not at all surprised that he was clad only in his pants. He followed, meandering towards the coffee machine to start their day. 

          Many minutes later, the two men found themselves curled up on the couch, bowls of porridge in hand and legs tangled together. “I’ve only seen this film once,” muttered Jack as Bond drove a stolen motorbike across the rooftops of a Turkish city. “Wasn’t there some big bullshit controversy because it suggested Bond likes men?” 

          Ianto’s eyes shined as he smiled and nodded, never looking away from the TV. It made Jack’s heart melt, watching Ianto’s face light up at the reminder that he could see himself in his childhood hero. Taking the empty bowl from Ianto’s hands, he set it on the table in front of them and wrapped his arms around his stomach. Pulling him close so he was flush against his chest, Jack nuzzled his hair and kissed his temple. He didn’t say another word. 

          After the somber ending of the film, Jack rubbed Ianto’s arm soothingly. The young man sighed contently and pecked him on the cheek before heading into the kitchen, bowls and mugs in hand. “Should’ve let me do that,” Jack called as he swung his legs off the couch and sauntered after him. “It is _your_ day, after all.” 

          “I don’t mind it much anymore, actually,” muttered Ianto, eyes fixed intently as he scrubbed every dried smudge of coffee out of his mug. “Now that it hasn’t been my main job for years. Sort of soothing, really.” 

          Jack hummed his understanding, placing a hand on the small of Ianto’s back. A smirk twisted Ianto’s lips as he repeated the cleaning process on Jack’s mug. The hand glided up and down his spine before it settled casually on the curve of his ass. “Were you really that bored by the movie?” asked Ianto, keeping his tone even. “It’s considered by many to be the best Bond film yet.” 

          “I wasn’t, actually. They did a great job with everything. What’s your opinion on it?” 

          “I’m too devoted to the classics. But it is very good.” 

          “Hipster,” said Jack with a grin. 

          Ianto snorted as he set down the coffee mug. “I’m surprised you actually managed to use that word correctly.” 

          “Hey, I’ve become an expert at adjusting to pop culture over the last hundred and forty years. Cut me some slack.” He slowly began to massage his ass, eliciting a sigh from Ianto. 

          “Fine. I suppose it's alright. Even if your tactics used to convince me are a bit questionable.” 

          “Me, questionable?” He wrapped his other hand around his waist and brushed his lips against his shoulder. “Never,” he murmured into the fabric. 

          Ianto rolled his eyes and turned to kiss him before turning back to clean the bowls. 

          Jack groaned impatiently as he continued to knead his ass slowly. “So what’s the layout of our day, birthday boy?” 

          Biting his lip, Ianto willed himself to focus, just to see how long he could tease Jack. “I thought you could pick a movie later. And then we could order some pizza.” 

          Jack snorted. “Pizza delivery, on your _birthday_ , Ianto? _Really?_ I thought you were classier than that.” 

          Ianto scoffed and eyed him sharply. “I _am_ classier than that, but if we step out that door, there's a good chance we’ll see a Weevil, at the very least.” His face softened into a smile. “I’m staying in here, with you.” 

          Trailing kisses down the nape of his neck, Jack hummed and wrapped both arms around his waist, pressing his hips against Ianto's. “It’s too early for lunch, though. What else can we do?” 

          Ianto rolled his eyes again, finally accepting that pretending to resist was useless. “For someone who was so excited to give me a nice birthday, you have zero birthday etiquette. You’re supposed to surprise me, Jack.” 

          He leered. “Oh, you want a surprise, do you?” Ianto barely had enough time to register the dangerous glint in Jack’s eyes before he swooped down and wrapped his arms below Ianto’s waist, pulling him off the ground. 

          “Oi!” he shouted, laughing as Jack hoisted him over his shoulder and marched into their bedroom. Ianto jokingly brought a fist down onto his back before he was lifted up again and carefully placed onto their bed. Jack immediately tried to lean in for a kiss, but Ianto was too quick for him. He put a foot out, pushing it against his chest. “We’re both too old for this,” he said with a scolding look, trying to hide his grin. 

          “33 isn’t _old_ , Ianto.” Jack reached out for him, trying to lean forward enough to caress his chest, but he just couldn’t quite reach. They were both taunting each other, digging into the other to see who would relent first. It was driving each of them mad, and they knew it. Ianto could see the longing behind Jack’s playful smirk, and he expected that Jack could see the same in him. But it was his bloody birthday, and he refused to give into Jack _every_ time. 

          Eventually, Jack’s arms went limp, hanging in the air. A pout settled on his lips. 

          “Iantooo.” 

          Sighing triumphantly, Ianto bent his leg and reached up to support Jack’s shoulders. He pulled his leg down and wrapped the defeated man in a consoling hug. The embrace was broken as Jack leaned back in order to sit cross-legged among the sheets. He beckoned sweetly with his hand and Ianto smiled, getting off the bed to pull his pajama bottoms down before climbing back towards Jack. He settled in his lap and lifted his arms up as Jack pulled his shirt off. Wrapping his arms around Jack’s neck, Ianto leaned in for a deep, satisfying kiss. It dragged a heavy sigh from Jack, the kind of sigh that let Ianto know he was calm, yearning, and most of all, ridiculously and overpoweringly happy. 

          Jack’s hands slid across his back, the familiar brush of his fingers sending shivers down his spine. Ianto played with the hair at the nape of Jack’s neck, gave it a slight tug, and there was that sigh, that breathy, content sigh. Ianto would give more than he’d like to admit, just to hear that sound again, but all he had to do was pull a little harder, and there it was, slightly louder than before, and-- 

          “Right, I’m done with these,” Ianto muttered as he tried to sit up to pull Jack's pants down as much as possible. The other man let out a deep, rumbling chuckle as he playfully pushed Ianto off of him. Grinning, he hit the mattress with a thud and laced his fingers into Jack’s hair as he peppered kisses down Ianto’s stomach and navel. Taking the fabric between his teeth, he slowly dragged the pants down, making sure to graze the length of Ianto’s steadily hardening cock as he did. Ianto gasped softly and rolled his hips forward, trying to catch more of Jack’s lips across his skin. 

          Jack’s eyes dilated at the sound. He yanked the pants off and tossed them behind him, never for a second tearing his gaze from a giggling Ianto, naked and relaxed and _gorgeous_. He pulled off his own pants and crawled on top of him, cradling his head in his hands. He kissed him deeply. Ianto tried to lock him into a hug, but Jack broke apart with a sigh and slid back down his body. A wet stripe curled around Ianto’s inner thigh as Jack licked his way to the base of his cock, kind and attentive. Even though the sex was amazing no matter what mood Jack was in, Ianto would choose him like this for the rest of his life, if he had to. He kissed the head before sucking on it gently, drawing a deep, slow moan from between Ianto’s lips. 

          Pulling off for a moment, Jack nuzzled his thighs and skimmed his teeth across his hip bones before lapping up the precome that had already started to leak out of the tip. “Jack,” he groaned, halfway to begging, and that was all it took for Jack to swallow him down to the hilt. Ianto gasped and willed himself to stay still as he slowly slipped from Jack’s mouth again. Kisses were pressed from the head to the base before Jack wrapped his lips around his cock again, bobbing his head enthusiastically. Ianto smiled. If it were anyone else, he’d have said they were doing it for show. But it was Jack. It had _only_ been Jack for a long, long time. And of course Jack was enthusiastic; he knew Ianto was watching him. But Jack loved this. Loved the weight of him on his tongue, loved feeling the way his hips jutted and thrust forward, loved the sound of Ianto’s rising and falling chest pushing needy moans out of his mouth. 

          “Please...I want--” ended in one of those moans. 

          Hollowing his cheeks, Jack pulled off and nuzzled his thigh soothingly. “I know.” He circled the head with his tongue once more before hovering over Ianto’s chest. He settled into the crook of Ianto’s neck, kissing and nipping at what he knew were the most sensitive spots as he reached a hand out towards the nightstand on Ianto’s side of the bed, blindly reaching for the bottle. Grasping it, Jack pushed himself off of Ianto and nestled in between his legs, coating his fingers. As he waited for the lube to warm up, he glided his other hand up Ianto’s stomach and pinched a nipple, and was rewarded with a sharp gasp. Grinning, he rolled it between his fingers before dragging his hand back down his body. He curled it around Ianto’s ass, about to tilt his hips up before Ianto did the work for him. On second thought, maybe he _couldn’t_ live with a slow and steady Jack his entire life. Ianto bit his lip and leered at him, amusement trying to hide what was slowly turning into desperation. “ _Come on_ , Jack.” 

          Laughing at his impatient antics, he obeyed and pushed a finger in, earning a relieved sigh. Ianto’s eyes rolled back as Jack circled his finger inside of him, and he let out a sudden gasp as Jack licked up the side of his cock. Adding a second finger, he slowly stretched him. The calloused fingertips brushed against Ianto’s prostate, and he was immediately pushing his hips back onto them. Now he really was begging. “Jack, _please_. I’m ready.” 

          Breaking out of the reverie created by the image in front of him, Jack sighed happily. He increased the speed of his fingers against Ianto’s prostate before pulling them out, earning a quiet whine. “You’re loving this, aren’t you?” Jack whispered. He placed a reassuring kiss on the head of Ianto’s cock before sitting up. Biting back a moan, he slicked up his own with more lube. Yes, Ianto easily admitted to himself as he watched Jack through half-lidded eyes, he did love this. 

          Hands were placed on either side of Ianto’s shoulders as Jack loomed over him. Smiling, he leaned down and kissed Ianto, swallowing his moan as he slowly pushed inside of him. Jack began to rock his hips forward, and all Ianto could do for a moment was feel him. He slid his tongue into his mouth and wrapped it around Jack’s, tasting him as much as possible. Humming blissfully into the kiss, Jack began to speed up his hips. It was perfect, but still not enough. 

          He didn't have to say a word. He could tell by the way he smirked warmly that Jack understood. Of course he did. He always did, somehow. Thrusting deeper inside of him, he curled his fingers around Ianto's cock, the speed of his hand quickly matching the speed of his hips. “Thank you, thank you,” he breathed out. 

          Keeping up the pace of his hips and his hand, he leaned down and kissed his forehead, then his lips. How Jack could manage to have enough brainpower to be able to focus on such a good kiss, Ianto would never understand. But, somehow, through the pounding of his thrusts and the merciless slide of his grip, Jack kissed him lovingly. 

          It was becoming too much. “Close,” he gasped. 

          Jack gave a slight nod, just enough to brush his lips against Ianto’s as he whispered, “Me too.” His thumb began to circle the head of his cock before sliding back down the shaft. He repeated the process relentlessly as he bucked into Ianto, hitting his prostate over and over again. And still, his kiss remained sweet, if a bit rough. Thrusting into Jack’s hand and onto Jack’s cock, he came suddenly. 

          “ _Jack_." Squeezing his eyes shut, Ianto writhed beneath him. The pull of his hips pushed Jack over the edge, coming with a deep, ragged sigh pressed against Ianto’s throat. As he slowly came down from the high, he nuzzled his neck and gave it a soft peck before rolling off of him. He laced his fingers with Ianto's and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. 

          “Thank you,” murmured Ianto, pressing his lips against Jack’s before curling up to his chest. 

          Jack lazily draped a hand over his back, keeping him close. “Same to you.” 

          They lay there, soaking up the silence when Ianto suddenly broke it with a quiet, “How do you always know what I want? It’s almost irritating.” 

          Jack snorted quietly. “That’s no way to respond to a birthday gift. I grabbed your ass, you didn't grab mine. It's really that simple, Ianto.” 

          He scoffed. “I’d like to think I’m more complex than that, _Jack_.” 

          The other man smirked and kissed his forehead, much to the chagrin of his boyfriend. “You are. I’ve spent nearly a decade trying to figure you out. I think I’ve only scratched the surface.” 

          Ianto’s expression softened as he studied Jack’s face, looking back and forth between his eyes. He smiled a little as he raised an eyebrow. “You gonna keep on scratching, then?” 

          “Mhm.” 

          Humming, generally, isn’t very expressive or meaningful. But Ianto understood it, and that tiny reassurance meant the world. He kissed Jack gently, deepening it as he wrapped an arm around his waist, pressing their bodies together. They both understood perfectly.


End file.
